


Strictly Bathroom

by Casjuice



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Castiel, Cuddling, Dean is Not Amused, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Pestilence encounter, Showers, Sick Dean Winchester, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2582411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casjuice/pseuds/Casjuice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their encounter with Pestilence, Team Free Will were, for the most part, unscathed.</p><p>Well, two thirds of Team Free Will were left unscathed. The last third was left in a state that warranted the need for bed rest and doting on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strictly Bathroom

The face off against Pestilence had gone pretty well, considering what could have happened. The ring was got and the horseman well and truly dealt with; but there were consequences that hadn’t been foreseen.

Dean was dangerously ill.

Pestilence had turned the Winchesters and Castiel to metaphorical petri dishes in the retirement home, filling them with delightful cocktails of diseases and infections and viruses to try and put a stopper on their attack. Trace elements of grace still kicking around in Castiel’s mortal ass had made that plan worthless, of course, and after the ring was chopped off Pestilence’s bony fingers, Sam and Cas felt right as rain.

Emphasis on Sam and Cas.

Seemingly the teeny-weeny non-human components of their bodies let them drop the sickness.

Dean, however, had only improved marginally, the most critical diseases trading themselves for the unpleasant but usually not fatal kind. But, that said, the elder Winchester couldn’t walk without a person on either side, his body temperature flung itself between hyper and hypothermic erratically, he threw up damn near hourly and his entire body ached.

It was touch and go for a while there, trying to get Dean out as whatever the hell Pestilence had given him played around with his life; but once out, they had got him into a warm bed someplace and he was slowly recovering.

It had been three days now and Sam Winchester was out; Castiel left in the motel to play nurse with an incredibly sickly Dean.

It seemed, thankfully, that they had reached a calm. Dean was sleeping(more or less) and Castiel was watching him idly but by no means inattentively; he would simply seem idle to an outsider. His body loose, gaze half hidden by tired lids, head resting heavily on his palm. Rest assured, Castiel was paying attention. He was definitely watching, not simply looking.

The debatable angel let his eyes slide gradually over the other’s deceptively peaceful body.

Dean’s chest rose and fell slowly, if a bit jerkily, under tangled covers. Each breath rattled with a chest infection and a gentle sheen of fever sweat shimmered on a drawn brow. His hair stuck up at odd angles from all the tossing and turning he’d only just managed to still. There was a strong temptation to walk over and smooth it down, but Castiel didn’t want to disturb Dean.

What he really wanted, more than anything at this point, was to heal him; but a poor connection with the place upstairs left him completely and utterly powerless. Castiel couldn’t do a damn thing and he hated it.

He sighed as Dean turned over onto his side, facing Castiel now, mumbling something in his sleep before coughing weakly. Cas watched as he kicked off his covers with a groan, squeezing the pillow and tugging it into a tight hug and burying his face in it.

He did that a lot; hugging his pillow and fighting off the covers. 

He blinked back the thought, the fact that Castiel knew that particular fact would, for some reason the near-angel couldn’t understand, make Dean uncomfortable. 

Humans are bizarre.

Castiel returned his focus to Dean.

Sweat patches were streaked dark and cool over most of the other’s clothing, bare legs tucked up against his stomach, toes curled just that little bit as another cough shook him.

Dean’s head shifted, nuzzling into the pillow, arms shuddering in the process. His body spasmed again with a string of harsh hacks. Dean pulled his face out of the pillow, making a feeble effort to sit up as his eyes opened blearily.

“Dean?” Castiel started to get up as Dean hunched over and collapsed to one side in the process from dizziness, “Dean, are you alright?”

Short answer; no.

Dean tried pushing himself up again, threw a heavy lidded, damn near apologetic look at Castiel before throwing up the minimal contents of his stomach all over himself.

Castiel dashed over without batting an eyelash, Dean slumped forward, face falling into the puddled sick, a weak groan scraping out of his throat.

“Dean-“ Castiel crawled onto the bed, taking Dean by the shoulders and slowly raising him up to a sitting position and propping him up against the headboard, “Can you hear me?”

Dean’s eyes flickered open, his face was red. “Sorry-“ his body jerked, convulsing as if to throw up again, but Dean swallowed it down with a shudder, groaning afterwards, “Sorry Cas,…”

“It’s okay, Dean, I don’t mind;” Castiel grabbed a clean part of the sheet and wiped it over Dean’s face, cleaning off his mouth and then his front, “It isn’t your fault you’re sick.”

Dean groaned in response as Castiel tried to get rid of as much of the sick as he could, checking Dean’s temperature and forcing some sugared water into him in the meantime. The Winchester was covered in sweat and couldn’t stay upright.

“Dean, how are you feeling?” Castiel bundled up the bedsheets and stuffed them into a plastic bag, “Dizzy?”

“Mhmm-“ Dean had found the pillow again and squashed his face into it, “Everything’s doubled up and…” he was interrupted by a harsh cough which ground off into a whine, “-Spinning, nothing stays fucking still.”

Cas tossed the bag in the corner and grabbed some paper towels. “And temperature?”

“All over the fucking place.” Dean grumbled as Castiel got him to lift his head off the pillow, dabbing the towels over his sweaty forehead, “it’s like I’m in the shower and someone keeps using the sink at random.” He flicked open his eyes again, they were unfocussed with wide, bleary looking pupils, “Doesn’t help that I feel like a tank just ran me over, too.”

“That does not sound very pleasant,” Castiel murmured, swiping more towels over Dean’s neck.

“It’s not.” The Winchester curled up into foetal position, dropping on his side back onto the mattress with a long and unhappy pining groan.

Castiel felt a pang of guilt, he didn’t know why, it wasn’t his fault either, but seeing Dean this miserable made him feel pretty miserable too. Especially since there wasn’t much he could do about it.

But what _could_ he do?

What makes humans feel better?

Medicine? There wasn’t any of that around. Jokes? Castiel knew that Dean didn’t appreciate his sense of humour. Hugs? Castiel had no clue how to go about hugging someone and he was pretty sure Dean would react badly to it. 

Sex? 

No. 

Just… no. 

Castiel squinted and tilted his head, thinking.

What else was there? 

Anything food related or physical was right out, anything vaguely intimate was as well, considering how much Dean treasured his personal space. 

A shower.

Perfect.

Humans _loved_ showers.

“Dean,” Castiel sat next to the curled up Winchester, tapping his sweat drenched back to get his attention, “Would you like a shower?”

Dean uncurled slightly, “What?” His voice was hushed and gravelly, sweat covered his face again and to adhere to his pattern, he flopped back down from the dizziness. Castiel’s reflexes, thankfully, were sharp so he caught him before he could hit the mattress.

“A shower; I think it would be good for you to have a shower,” Castiel spoke clearly and slowly, Dean’s ears were probably ringing, “So you can wash up and soothe all your aches and pains.”

Dean sat up again, this time staying upright, looking over at Cas without opening his eyes. He frowned and rubbed the bridge of his nose, shivering again. Castiel wanted to reach over and hold him to try and still the shiver, but again, personal space was very important to the other. “Cas, I can barely sit up, how the hell would I be able to shower myself?” He seemed bitter about admitting that.

Castiel thought for a second. “I can help?” 

“What?” Dean flashed dark green irises at Castiel in a way that read as confused, “No, Cas.”

“Why not?” Castiel crossed his arms, giving Dean a very stern look.

Dean’s frown got heavier and his eyes closed again, hands catching his head before it could pull him back down to a horizontal position. “Because…” He paused, seemingly not know what words to say. Well, that or being too sick to think straight, “I can’t shower with a guy, I’m not…”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Dean, “ he sighed, “You need to have a shower, a shower will make you feel better.” He got up, standing across from Dean, offering a hand to help him up, looking Dean in the eye sternly as he did,“Come on, get up,” Castiel took Dean’s hand and the other staggered upright, leaning his weight on Castiel begrudgingly, “You’re showering whether you like it or not, Dean Winchester, so, as you humans put it so gracefully, suck it up.”

“Okay, okay- just slow down.” Dean groaned, hooking his arm around the sort of angel as his knees buckled, “Ah-damnit“ He tugged on Castiel’s coat as the other steadied him, “Bowlegs.”

“Not good for balance?”

“Shit for balance.”

Castiel chuckled lightly while he helped Dean through to the bathroom(well, more half-carried him through to the bathroom), sitting him down in the corner as he closed the door and turned on the shower. The steam alone seemed to have a positive effect on the sickly Winchester, the shivering stopped very, very quickly.

Dean seemed reluctant, however, to strip down.

“Cas- do I really…” he was blushing, clinging to his shirt with his legs snapped together, “I can shower with my clothes on-“

“Dean, do you realise how ridiculous you sound?” He squatted down to be on eyelevel with him and gave him a dry look, “You’ll enjoy your shower much better without clothing in the way.”

Dean frowned, clenching his jaw. Thinking. His body was rigid and drawn in, clutching tight at his sides, reminiscent of a wounded animal.

Castiel raised his eye brows.

Dean raised up his arms, nodding to gesture that Castiel was allowed to take his shirt off; which Castiel did hastily before Dean could change his mind.

“Satisfied?” Dean flopped his arms back down and looked up at Castiel tiredly.

“Partially;” Castiel rolled up Dean’s shirt and tossed it into the corner of the room, “But you’re still clothed.”

“Um, no I’m not.”

“Underwear is clothing.”

“No.”

“Dean.”

“No!”

“ _Dean_ ”

“But…”

“ _Dean Winchester, do you really think that your privates will-_ ” 

“Jeeeesus Christ, Cas, fine!”

Victorious, Castiel helped Dean stand up, pulling down the boxer briefs in one swift movement. Dean’s hands moved to cover himself, face pink. Castiel leant him up against the wall with a sigh before moving to start stripping down himself.

He decided against going in completelynude, Dean was uncomfortable enough as he was. So as a consequence, only the coat, shirt, suit and pants dropped; boring boxers stayed in place.

Dean closed his eyes as Cas hooked an arm around him to walk him over to the shower,”Wait-“

“What is it?” Castiel looked over at the slumped, stark naked Winchester.

Dean jammed a finger into Castiel’s chest. “If you tell Sam about _any_ of this,” He opened his eyes blearily, dizziness very visible, “I will kill you, slowly and painfully, I can promise you that.”

Castiel was slightly taken aback, but not really surprised. “Of course.”

“Good.” Dean groaned, flopping back against Cas, “Now get me in that shower before I die of hypothermia, I’m freezing my ass off here.”

“Gladly,” Castiel hooked Dean’s arm over his shoulder, grabbing him around the waist and walking him into the little cubicle, pulling the curtains shut behind him.

The effects of the shower were instantaneous. Dean loosened considerably and sighed, going lax in Castiel’s arms and cocking back his head, a smile glimmering on his lips just for a second. He swayed, Castiel caught him, pulling him up close.

Dean tried to push away from Cas, but the attempts were feeble and he decided against it, letting himself lean his naked body against Castiel for stability despite how nervous it was making him. 

“Do you want to sit down?”

Dean nodded, getting a bit out of breath from all of the standing, “My legs hurt.”

“Okay-“ Cas pulled the shower head down, aiming it forwards a little before lowering Dean and himself down, sitting the Winchester in his lap, “Better?”

“Mhmm…” Dean leant forward, the last of his snark fading back into non existence, “Dizzy…” He groaned weekly as the hot water ran in little rivulets over his shoulders and his short tawny hair.

“You’ll be okay, Dean,” Castiel crooned gently, dragging a washer over Dean’s clammy, sweat drenched skin, “Just close your eyes and relax.”

“ ’kay…” Dean mumbled, sighing softly and breathing in the hot steam before puffing it out slowly and methodically.

Cas cleaned Dean carefully and slowly, making sure he told Dean before touching anywhere even vaguely erogenous; he left Dean’s skin feeling smooth and coloured just that little bit pink; flushed from the heat. 

Dean was pretty quiet most of the time, only speaking occasionally. Suprisingly, the only time he flinched was when Cas absently put his hand over the print he’d left when he’d dragged the other out of the pit. 

“The hell Cas?”

“Hmm?” 

“Don’t touch that-“

“What?” Castiel looked down at the old burn, “Why?”

Dean thought a little on that one; Castiel could swear his heart beat had gotten quicker.

“Feels weird.” Dean stated flatly.

“How so?” Castiel had to confess touching the mark gave him an odd sort of feeling, sort of an essence of the energy it had taken to put it there, “It’s just a scar.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Dean grumbled, batting at Cas’s hand and overbalancing in the process, “Shit-“

Cas caught Dean before he could slam into anything and didn’t touch his handprint again however much he wanted to. He felt that Dean was lying about it making him fell ‘weird’ though, ‘weird’ was probably substituting another word that Dean didn’t fancy saying.

A sigh slipped from Cas’s lips as he went back to sponging Dean down and washing his hair. Dean went back to being still and quiet save for the occasional groan or sigh.  
Once clean, Castiel decided that he should try getting Dean out and putting him back to bed, maybe making something for him to eat now his nausea seemed to be a thing of the past. 

“Dean, do you want to get out?” He nudged the Winchester, “I was thinking you should go back to bed and try sleeping now you’ve –“

Cas noticed how slowly Dean was breathing and just how still he was; how he had slipped down a little, legs loose and no longer crushed together in an effort to hide his sex, arms hanging on either side, head leant back against Castiel’s chest.

He was already asleep.

Castiel smiled lightly, draping his arms around Dean for no particular reason, holding him in a loose embrace.

In his sleep, Dean leaned into it, arms moving to hold Castiel too.

Curiously, Castiel touched the scar.

Dean sighed and the hold tightened just that little bit, a smile flickered on his lips.

Yeah, sure, it feels weird.

More like it feels nice.

Castiel shook his head.

_Humans._


End file.
